Fragile Chaos

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Fragile Chaos Page 15

by Amber R. Duell


  Bile rises in my throat. They must be taking me back to the temple to finish me off. A shiver runs down my spine. Okay. It’s okay. Just wait. Don’t panic. The second the gravel gives way to dirt and we curve to the right, I’ll make my move. It’s the closest we’ll get to the woods on the way, and the best chance I’ll have of losing myself in the trees before they catch up.

  Theo’s hand moves to my shoulder, pulling me to a stop. No. They can’t do it here. The odds of making it through the arch without them blocking the way are slim to none, let alone all the way to the forest. My mouth fills with saliva, my hands shaking. Don’t panic.

  Theo’s fingers work the knot at the back of my head and the blindfold falls away. I squint as the sun stings my eyes, raising a hand to hide the glowing orb, and focus on Goran between my fingers. He doesn’t look grim like he did the last time, but that doesn’t mean much. When he smiles, my breakfast threatens to reappear.

  “What’s going on?” I ask. Goran waves a folded piece of paper between us. “Should I know what that means?”

  “It’s a scavenger hunt,” Theo says from behind me.

  I open my mouth but my brain sputters in a thousand directions. Whatever I was about to say sticks in my throat. It feels as if every molecule of air is electrified. Like it’s waiting to sense a sword swinging in from behind or an arrow whirling from the rooftop. A trap, my mind screams, but when I look at Theo, he’s concentrating on his shoes instead of me. If he were going to kill me, he would at least look at me, wouldn’t he? For all Theo is, he isn’t a coward.

  “What?” My voice is barely a whisper.

  “You said you enjoyed them.” He stuffs his hands in his pockets and shrugs. Veins trail along the muscles in his arm as he flexes. “I’m not sure if it’s exactly the same as the ones you’re used to…”

  The blood drains from my head. I stumble back and plunk down on the bottom of the stoop. He isn’t going to send me to the Netherworld. He doesn’t know my plan to seduce him or my backup plan to run. This is a surprise. He did this for me. I wave a hand in front of my face to fight the increasing vertigo.

  “Are you all right?” Goran asks.

  I shake my head. “I thought you had changed your mind about letting me stay,” I mumble. I’m in no condition to conjure up a lie about why I’m seconds from passing out. It’s enough to leave out the why.

  “You didn’t tell her?” Goran asks in a rushed whisper. “You can’t be that clueless.”

  “It wouldn’t be a surprise if I told her,” Theo whispers back.

  I pull in deep breaths. Get yourself together. Theo put this together for me, and I can’t throw it in his face. The kissing gave me hope, but after not seeing him for days, I was beginning to think seducing him was a fruitless venture. Maybe it won’t be so pointless after all. My plan can’t fail because I’m afraid of Theo’s reaction, or worse, that I’ll fall for him after one more kiss like the last. I shake the numbness from my hands and ease my way back to my feet.

  “I’m fine.” I rub at the glossy scar on my neck. “Really, I am,” I add when neither of them speak.

  “I had a whole speech ready,” Goran says with a shrug. “But, here.”

  I rub my fingers over my sweaty palms and take the paper from his outstretched hand. “So this is a…scavenger hunt?” I try to hide the skepticism in my voice and glance at Theo. “You remembered.”

  “Of course,” Theo says.

  Of course. Ha!

  Goran steps back. Theo’s hand twitches as if he wants to grab him and force him to stay close, but he balls it into a fist instead. I flick the edge of the paper with my thumbnail. Interesting.

  “Am I doing this alone?” I glance at Theo from under my lashes in what I hope is a flirtatious look. I feel ridiculous for it. Like I’m wading through rough water without knowing how to swim and there’s no one to offer me a lifejacket. “Or do you plan on helping?”

  “Goran planted the clues,” Theo says as if it answers the question.

  My inner voice screams no. I don’t want his help. He’ll ruin the memory of this for me, and I have precious few good ones left from before. But my body is a traitor. My heart races, my stomach flutters, and I fumble while opening the last fold.

  “All right.” I swallow and look at the clue: IPSOKSNR PCIGK. Theo steps up beside me, his heat reaching out to merge with mine, and I force myself to stare at the letters. “It’s an anagram.”

  “Something about rings?” he suggests.

  My gaze slides toward the black ring around his finger, but I force it back to the paper. There’s no getting it from him, and I shouldn’t consider trying until my job is finished. Maybe if I get away with saving Oren, I can pry it off Theo in his sleep. I’ll have the necessary access if this goes right. I smother the idea and mentally cross out letters, rearranging them into anything that makes sense.

  This would be a lot easier with a pen.

  “Corks? Do you have a wine cellar?” I ask.

  “I don’t.” He tilts his head and is silent for a moment. “That would leave skipping as the only choice for the first word.”

  “Hm.” I gasp. “Rocks! Skipping rocks.”

  “The brook,” he says.

  His breath skims my cheek and my breath hitches. I crumple the paper, stepping around him. “Come on.”

  The path to the cliff is familiar now. It’s the same trail leading to the bucket of flat stones I use as a cover for spending hours away from the house. I duck under branches and hop over fallen trees without much thought, sparing a moment to be glad I chose jeans and sneakers this morning. Theo’s right behind me, but I’m sure he’s pacing himself. There’s no way, with his long legs, that I’m faster. I appreciate the thought though. As much as I don’t need him to let me win, I did solve the puzzle. Claiming the next clue feels like my right.

  And there it is, nailed to a wide oak tree with twisted, sweeping branches and bright green leaves clinging to its bark. I beam at Theo, the biggest I’ve smiled in a long time, and pluck it from the trunk.

  “Did you ever do it?” Theo asks quietly.

  The steady rise and fall of his chest draws my attention. Stop it. But my focus lingers anyway. It’s better than looking him in the eye while thinking he’s attractive and risk him reading me too well. “Do what?” I ask as I unfold the new clue.

  “Skip a rock.”

  My head snaps up, sure he’s making fun of me, but he’s waiting with genuine interest. Okay. Commit to the plan. Act better; be believable. “Not even close.” My laugh flows naturally, almost as if I don’t have to try. “One day.”

  “One day,” he echoes.

  His hand inches closer to mine and the energy dances between us. Do it. But then it falls back to his side. Pain scratches at my chest and I focus on the paper. This is no time to get emotional.

  “It’s a riddle,” I say. Riddles aren’t my forte, but it’s easier if I listen. “Can you read it out loud?”

  Theo slips the paper from my hand and I still myself to better concentrate. A faint ringing fills the silence before Theo speaks. The first syllable to pass his lips rolls over me and I shiver.

  “Soldiers fight and soldiers fall, lords of war plan it all. From this height we know the sea, but soon enough you’ll need a key. Mountains and roads are in your sight, but from here it’s only trite.”

  “I have no idea,” I admit.

  His lips never stop moving as he repeats it again and again. The longer I wait, the more in his own thoughts he becomes. A tight, writhing knot grows in my lower stomach as I watch him. My hand flexes, eager to reach out and wipe away the small crease between his brows.

  “Any thoughts you want to share?” I ask instead.

  “Lords of war has to refer to me,” he says in a rush.

  I nod. “Do you use a key for anything?”

  “Have you run into a locked door?”

  “No.” I narrow my eyes. Don’t make me smack you again. “That doesn’t mean you don’t
have some mythical key to the universe.”

  His laugh is distant, his mind still on the riddle. “Wouldn’t that be nice?”

  I lean against the tree and rip a large pronged leaf from a low branch. It curls against the breeze as I roll the stem between my fingers. Theo doesn’t move but his lips never stop, although his murmurs are too quiet to hear now, and I flush. The memory of what those lips feel like on mine is palpable. A twisted ring of want bands my ribcage.

  It’s easy enough to remember the lies Theo’s told when we’re apart, but when he’s nearby it all fades away. I should ask him to help my brother; it’s the right thing to do. I can’t forget about the things Theo did in the past, but I can choose to move forward. He’s capable of doing better, I know he is. In the moments when he’s not caught up in winning the war or the power struggle with Ebris, I catch a glimpse of a different person.

  Ugh. Why does this have to be so complicated?

  Theo jolts and I spring away from the tree. His smile builds, brightening his face. “The key on a map,” he says, grinning. “It’s the maps in the war room.”

  I’ve only been in the war room once, the day Leander came, but it isn’t any less oppressive the second time. Tall windows line most of the back wall, letting in massive amounts of natural light, but it feels too harsh. Yellow, curling maps cover the right wall and an unbroken table near it is plastered with crisp ones, colored with blues, greens, and browns. Endless binders line bookshelves. A massive circular table with a variety of colored glass pieces takes up the entire center of the room. I trail the scrolled edge with a finger as Theo plucks the next clue from the edge of a map.

  “What is this?” I ask.

  Theo hesitates. “The War Table.”

  “Oh.” I lift a blue sphere from the black stone base and hold it up toward the ceiling. Slivers of light penetrate the edges, shimmering, dancing, across the smooth curves.

  “You’re holding ten thousand Asgyans in your hand,” he says in a carefully controlled voice.

  My grip twitches and I rush to put it back in the exact position while forcing my hands to remain steady. “Sorry.”

  “It’s useless now.” He approaches the table, eying it like it might move of its own accord. “When I…when my powers were taken, it became nothing more than another piece of furniture. I only use it now out of habit.”

  Red and blue pieces are grouped together on opposite sides with a few spaced between, mingling with each other. This is the war that destroyed Kisk, laid out in the most anonymous way imaginable. I exhale from a small crack in my lips. The lack of a third color doesn’t escape my notice. “What does the clue say?” I ask.

  He rounds the table, stopping in front of me to read it, and I ball my hands to keep them where they belong: at my sides. The struggle strains my muscles, aches my bones, until it’s too much. My body doesn’t give my brain a chance to object before moving.

  I shoot to my toes, my hip bumping the table. The glass trembles along the surface. Theo’s eyes dilate a split second before I make contact, then mine slam shut. A warm haze descends on the room. My senses slowly fight through the horror of what I did, and panic swells in my chest when he doesn’t respond.

  Then Theo lifts me from the floor, setting me on the war table. Pieces tumble across the table in series of sharp clicks, and I’m lost to the kiss.

  He bends to reach my face, cupping the back of my head, and I ball my hands into his shirt. The sensation is familiar now, as if we had been doing this for years. Low, deep kisses that end feather-light. His stomach hardens beneath my knuckles and I release his shirt, splaying my hands over the fabric instead. The same struggle to breath surfaces and I embrace it. Pulling it close, and Theo closer. It suffocates me from the inside out.

  A cough breaks through the fog and Theo leans back, his lips swollen. His jaw muscles jump and he sets the paper on my thigh. “Goran,” he says, blocking me from his adviser’s view. “There you are.”

  “Forgive me,” he says, sounding completely unapologetic. “I thought maybe you were having a hard time working things out.”

  Theo takes a handful of deep breaths, each rippling over my cheek. “We’re fine,” he says.

  “I’ll leave this here then.” Goran shuffles in the doorway and disappears.

  Theo’s shoulders slump and he rests his hands on either side of my legs. “Cassia.”

  “I know,” I breathe. What an idiot. Did I really kiss him? Have I lost all common sense? “You didn’t want to kiss me again.”

  “That’s all I want to do,” he whispers in my ear. “But I can’t. Not yet.”

  I smother the urge to lean into him, burying my face in the slope of his neck. Instead, I place my fingertips on his collarbone and gently push him away. The paper flutters to the floor as I slide off the table. The hunt is over before it’s finished, but I bend to pick it up anyway.

  A soft mew travels from the other side of Theo’s boots. I pause as a fluffy, gray cat, no bigger than my hand, bounces over to weave through my ankles. “A kitten?”

  Theo glares down at it, still struggling to collect himself. “She’s the prize.”

  I lift the squirming kitten. She stares at me with large green eyes as I stand. “You got her for me?”

  “I thought…” He sighs, running a hand through his hair. “I thought you must be lonely here.”

  I hug the kitten, her tiny claws catching in the fabric of my shirt. “Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome.” His voice is composed again, polite, even if his expression isn’t. He dashes into the hallway, and I follow as far as the door.

  “Did you have fun?” Goran asks in a bright voice.

  “Shut up,” Theo growls as he passes.

  I’m torn between following and staying put, but the kitten snags my skin in an attempt to crawl to my shoulder. “No, no,” I say quietly, pulling her from my body before she can dig her claws in. It doesn’t matter where Theo found her, or if she’s secretly some alien creature the mythology books forgot to mention, my heart is exploding.

  Tomorrow.

  Tomorrow I’m going to ask Theo to save Oren. I can’t do this to him. It isn’t fair to either of us. If he won’t help, I’ll find another way. There’s always another way.

  I kiss the kitten’s fur. “I think I’ll call you Moki.”

  Red ink scars the map as Goran leans over the table, drawing circles with a compass. I read the coordinates slowly, watching them take shape one after another. A sense of dread lurks in the shadows, waiting, hoping, for my suspicions to be confirmed.

  “What are we looking for?” Goran asks after creating the eleventh mark.

  “Brisa sunk an Asgyan fleet. No survivors.” We didn’t have a chance to discuss the reports before I shoved a pen in his hand, but Goran isn’t the one I need to talk to about this. My sister is. I read the last set of numbers and let the list float to the floor. Two are in the middle of the ocean, but the majority linger near the Asgyan shoreline. “These are confirmed tidal waves in the last twenty-four hours.”

  Goran sets the compass down and drums his fingers on the table in a steady thump, thump, thump. “But Brisa doesn’t like to get involved with this sort of thing. Are you sure it wasn’t coincidence? The ships could have been in the wrong place at the wrong time.”

  “Does it look like a coincidence to you?” I ask. There’s never this many waves hitting at once, let alone in a concentrated area, not without earthquakes or volcanic activity to stir things up. Technology would have warned them to get out of the area before it was too late. This isn’t bad luck. “I’m going to go talk to her.”

  Brisa will tell me the truth; she always has. Ebris can punish us for breaking the rules, but not for breaking confidence. Not outright, anyway, and Brisa can hold her own.

  When I turn to leave, Cassia is in the doorway with the kitten at her feet. “Hey.” She wrings her hands and a smile twitches uncertainly on her lips. “Are you busy? I need to talk to you about som
ething.”

  I open and shut my mouth. If it’s about yesterday, I don’t have time to hear it. Ever. I’m just glad Goran did as promised and looked in on us. I don’t want to think about what might have happened if he didn’t interrupt. “I’m actually on my way out,” I say.

  “Oh.” Her expression falls. She looks behind me to Goran, then the table. “Later then?”

  I hesitate. I’ve never heard her voice anything but strong. Wary, maybe, or nervous, but never quiet. “I’m not sure how long it will take. I’ll find you if it’s early enough.”

  “Any time is fine,” she says.

  I step around her, careful not to brush against her, and bite back a humorless laugh. There’s nothing she has to say that can’t wait until the issue with the ships is finished. I’m absolutely not going anywhere near the third floor to wake her in the middle of the night. “Maybe.”

  I step from my alcove in the water temple and into the main room. Blue and gold mosaic tiles splash the walls. They curl into waves, shining as if wet. The air holds a salty edge to it. Enough that I taste it on my tongue. A long banner drapes over the altar with pearls and shells carefully woven between aqua beads. Brisa perches in the middle of it, swinging her legs to a choir of delicate clicks. Dark, curly hair frizzes around her. She’s wearing a denim shirt with a pair of shorts and looking much too relaxed for having killed two thousand Asgyans.

  Her thin lips quirk when she sees me approach. “It took you long enough. I was beginning to wonder if you would come at all.”

  “Of course I came.” A choked breath flies from my chest, and I grip the railing separating the altar from the pit. “I needed those ships, Brisa.”

  Her bare feet slap against a cobalt floor as she slides from the altar. “I took the smallest fleet.”

  “The smallest,” I echo. Something desperate cracks beneath my ribs, but I can’t let it surface. Not in front of anyone. Not even Brisa. “It was the Asgyans’ last set of destroyers. You didn’t have to take any ships at all.”

 

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